Small-Town Dad

by Jean C. Gordon

  Ian placed the last ribbon.

  “All done,” Anne said.

  He snapped the book shut with a bam.

  Neal held up a second hymnal. “Want to help me?”

  “Nope.”

  Anne smiled as Ian climbed back on Neal’s lap.

  “How am I going to sing the songs without a song book?”

  “Share with Nee Nee.” Ian pulled the hymnal from Anne’s lap to Neal’s.

  Anne waited for Neal’s response. There was something a touch too intimate about sharing a hymnal.

  “But there are enough books for both of us to have one.”

  “No,” Ian insisted. “At ’kool, Miss Jenfer says we have to share.”

  “She does, does she? You’re right. Better not argue with the teacher, right, Aunt Annie?”

  Before she could answer, the choir director finished the prelude. She struck a chord on the piano, and the choir began walking down the aisle, voices raised in song.

  Neal placed the second hymnal on the seat to his far side and lowered Ian to the floor in front of him. He flipped open the marked song book and offered her the right-hand side to hold, closing the distance she’d put between them. As his rich baritone joined the choir voices, the harmony of the praise washed over her and she allowed herself to enjoy the fellowship of the moment.

  When the song ended, Anne came back to reality with a start, released the hymnal as if it were a hot potato and put as much space between her and Neal as she could without being too obvious in her action. Ian climbed up on the pew and situated himself in the space, allowing her to regain some of her equilibrium.

  The little boy patted her leg. “Story.”

  “Shh, I can’t read you a story right now. We’re going to say a prayer.” She bowed her head and folded her hands, hoping he’d follow suit.

  “No, story.” He pointed to the front of the church.

  He couldn’t be talking about the sermon. He wasn’t quite three.

  “Opal said.” His voice rose.

  Anne’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t going to have a trantrum, was he? Not here in church. Not on their first Sunday.

  Pastor Joel finished the prayer and the choir rose for a praise song. Ian swung his little legs back and forth to the rhythm of the song and Anne relaxed.

  The choir members returned to their seats.

  “Story now.” Several people in the pews ahead of them turned at Ian’s louder insistence. A couple of them smiled. A couple others didn’t.

  Anne debated whether she should take Ian out into the vestibule or whether that would interrupt service more. She was not going to turn to Neal for help. She should be able to handle something as simple as Ian talking in church.

  Pastor Joel stepped down from the lectern. And walked to the center of the steps to the altar.

  “Nee Nee.” In Anne’s ears her name echoed off the walls and ceiling.

  The pastor looked out at them and she wanted to melt to the floor under the pew.

  “I’d like all the children to join me for a story,” he said.

  “See, Nee Nee. Story. Opal said.”

  The bands constricting her lungs unwound. “Yes. A story.” Her words whooshed out.

  Opal and Rose trooped down the aisle and stopped at the end of their pew. “Mommy said Ian can come with us,” Rose said.

  “Do you want to go with the girls?”

  “No. Nee Nee and Neal. Story.”

  None of the other parents were with the children making their way down front.

  “It’s been a while,” Neal said, “but I can handle this if you want me to.”

  Anne could have hugged him for the offer. Except they were in church. And she shouldn’t be thinking about hugging Neal in church or anywhere else. She’d planned to quietly attend service as she had the other times she’d visited Hazardtown Community Church before she’d made her decision to join its fellowship. She’d never imagined something so simple could be so difficult.

  Neal rose and took Ian’s hand and motioned the girls to go ahead. “Come on, bud.”

  Ian hesitated. Anne grasped the back of the pew in front of her with her right hand. After all of his vocal anticipation of the story, he wasn’t going to go with Neal to hear it?

  “Nee Nee, too.”

  “I think you’d better come.” Neal lifted his chin toward the front of the church where Pastor Joel and the other children appeared to be waiting for them.

  Anne stood and took Ian’s other hand and they walked up the side aisle with, she was sure, every eye in the church on them. From the knowing smiles on the faces of some of the congregants, she could imagine the false family picture the three of them must be portraying.

  But she couldn’t muster the embarrassment she should be feeling, despite her mother’s niggling voice in the back of her head. Watch your actions, don’t give anyone a reason to gossip about you. There would be time to untangle the grapevine later. She and Ian were a family. And people could talk all they wanted about that.

  * * *

  Edna Donnelly accosted Neal and Anne on their way out of the sanctuary after service. That was the only way Neal could describe his former English teacher’s situating herself between them and the line of people filing out by Pastor Joel. Accosted in a good way, if there was such a thing.

  “Annie, I’m so glad you’re joining us here at Community.”

  Anne’s cheeks flushed as the well-meaning older woman’s loud greeting filled the church and vestibule and probably carried downstairs to the church hall, as well.

  “Mrs. Donnelly. Good to see you again.”

  “And this must be Ian.” She ruffled his red curls and he ducked behind Anne. “Harry told me all about him.”

  The older woman’s proclamation pricked Neal. Anne’s landlord, Harry Stowe, knew all about Ian? When Anne hadn’t seen fit to even let him know she’d returned from Sudbury, let alone that she’d changed her mind about taking the toddler? Neal had found out completely by accident. He crumpled his bulletin and tossed it in the wastebasket. Was he jealous of an eighty-year-old man?

  “Are you coming, Neal?” Mrs. Donnelly asked. “You’re holding up the line.”

  Neal glanced over his shoulder and gave the people behind them an apologetic smile.

  The four of them made their way to the pastor.

  Pastor Joel took Mrs. Donnelly’s hand in his. “Good morning. Always good to see you.”

  “You, too. I especially enjoyed the Scripture reading today. Psalm 34:4 is one of my favorites. ‘I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.’” She repeated it from memory. “I relied on that verse when I lost my husband and again when my grandson was wounded in Afghanistan. Got me through both times.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I wish more people would rely on His guidance.”

  Pastor Joel released Mrs. Donnelly’s hand and reached for Anne’s. “Anne, I’m so glad you decided to join us.”

  She stepped forward and extended her hand but didn’t meet the minister’s gaze.

  Neal watched with interest. What had unsettled her? Did she expect Joel to criticize Ian’s behavior? Neal had a feeling that her parents were very critical. That would explain a lot of her drive for success. If she thought Pastor Joel would judge her like that, she didn’t know him at all.

  “And who is this guy?” Pastor Joel smiled down at Ian.

  “This is my... This is Ian.”

  “Hi, Ian. Did you enjoy the Bible story?”

  He nodded his answer. “Neal, too.”

  “I could tell,” Joel said with exaggerated seriousness. “Do you know that that’s the first time Neal has come forward for the story?”

  “I bring him,” Ian chimed.

 
“Yes, and you can bring him again anytime you want. Him and...” Pastor Joel hesitated and glanced over at Anne, unsure how to address her to Ian.

  “Nee Nee,” Ian offered.

  Neal interpreted. “Aunt Annie.”

  The corner of Joel’s mouth quirked up, belying his otherwise solemn expression. And Anne’s already pink cheeks went crimson.

  “Neal.” Pastor Joel shook his hand as Anne attempted to hustle Ian through the vestibule to the door. “I appreciate the evangelism.”

  Joel nodded toward Anne, who’d almost made it to the door before Mrs. Donnelly had grabbed her arm.

  “I had nothing to do with it,” Neal said.

  Pastor Joel ignored his protest. “I hear Anne’s joined your Singles Plus group, too.”

  It wasn’t his group. He was just the leader for the current Bible study module.

  “She’s only come once. Several weeks ago. With Jamie,” he emphasized.

  “From the looks of things, I’m sure you can get her to come back.”

  “I’ll talk with Jamie.”

  “You do that.” Pastor Joel turned to the next person in line.

  Did that really just happen? Pastor Joel matchmaking? Neal expected it of some of the other church members, but not his pastor and friend. He strode to the door before remembering that he’d come with Mom and Dad. They’d be downstairs in the church hall. He shouldn’t leave without telling them, even though having to report in struck him as juvenile. Otherwise, Mom and Dad would be looking for him when they were ready to leave.

  He trudged down the stairs and pasted a smile on his face. Maybe he could catch one of them quickly and avoid having to talk with anyone. The walk home in the brisk November air would do him good. Help him clear his mind.

  “There you are,” Mrs. Donnelly called as he entered the hall. “We saved you a place.” She motioned to the table where, from the pained smile on Anne’s face, she held Anne and Ian captive, well guarded by Mr. Stowe and several of the church’s evangelism committee. His heart went out to Anne in sympathy.

  Correct that. Ian was in his glory shoveling in cake and chattering away to Mr. Stowe, who was nodding thoughtfully, as if carefully contemplating each of the boy’s words. More likely he had his hearing aid turned down and wasn’t hearing most of what Ian was saying.

  Neal scanned the room for his parents and found his mother passing by her usual coffee hour group and making a beeline for Mrs. Donnelly’s table. His dad was nowhere in sight. Mom placed her coffee cup on the table next to Anne. She was up to something. He could tell by the glint in her eyes. He motioned to her that he was leaving. Either she didn’t see him or was ignoring him. He debated whether it was the latter and he should just go ahead and leave.

  “Ne-al.”

  Ian’s call to him resolved the debate. No way he could slip out now. He dragged himself over.

  “I’m glad I found you,” his mother said.

  Like she hadn’t just seen him standing across the room motioning to her. Yep, she was up to something, and a sinking feeling in his stomach said that something had to do with Anne and Ian.

  “I was just telling Anne that your father has gone over to the parsonage with the building committee to take a look at the damage to the roof from last week’s hail. I don’t know how long they’ll be.”

  “That’s okay. I thought I’d walk home.”

  His mother looked at his cotton dress shirt. “You don’t have a jacket.”

  Across the table from him, Anne took an intense interest in her coffee.

  “Here, take my coffee.” His mother pointed to the space next to Anne. “I’ll go and get another. They just put out Karen Hill’s cheesecake cookies.”

  Neal didn’t recall his mother being such a big fan of cheesecake. He walked around the table and slid into the place next to her.

  Anne turned to him. “That’s one of the reasons I’ve put some miles between my mother and me.”

  More unsolicited advice on how he should have lived his life? He gripped the insulated paper cup and hot coffee spilled over on his hand and the table.

  Anne wiped the table with her napkin. “I was teasing.”

  He should have known that. Her deprecating sense of humor was one of the many things he’d always liked about Annie, along with the way her soft hair framed her delicate features, her perfect fair skin that pinked at the least suggestion of embarrassment, her expressive brown eyes that a man could lose himself in and...

  Get ahold of yourself, Hazard. You’re not a junior in high school anymore and she’s not little Annie O’Connor. She’s Anne Howard. And Anne Howard was someone very different from straightforward Annie, as her actions with Ian had shown him.

  To cover himself, Neal released an exaggerated sigh. “But with Emily married and Autumn off in her own apartment, Mom would have no one to mother. Who knows what she’d resort to?”

  “Neal Theodore Hazard.” His mother came up behind him. “I know you’re talking about me. And I know our Annie doesn’t believe a word of it.”

  He and Anne exchanged a quick glance. When had she become our Annie?

  “Anyway, Annie said she’d give us a ride home, so we don’t have to wait around for your dad.”

  Anne choked on her coffee.

  While Neal was sure Anne had agreed to drive Mom home as she’d said, he’d guess she’d failed to mention to Anne that he’d come with his parents.

  “These cookies are really good. Want one?” His mother held her paper plate out to Anne.

  “No, thanks.”

  Neal gulped his coffee. His mother was matchmaking. She’d been hinting for more grandchildren for years, but to be this overt was unlike her.

  “Nee Nee.” Ian pushed his plate between him and Anne.

  He must have finished his talk with Mr. Stowe.

  “More cake?”

  “No, sweetie, I think you’ve had enough.”

  The corners of the boy’s mouth turned down.

  “And we have to drive Neal home.” Anne’s eyes pleaded with him for support.

  “And my mother.”

  Ian’s chin quivered when he heard the word mother.

  Not the best choice of words.

  “You can call me Grandma Mary, like Rose and Opal and the other kids do.”

  “I know Opal,” Ian said.

  Mom to the rescue. Neal had to be thankful for her help defusing a possible meltdown, but he was still uneasy with the direction his mother was taking.

  Ian’s eyes brightened. “Ian has a grandma.”

  “And what a lucky grandma she is to have a big boy like you. I have two granddaughters, Autumn and baby Isabelle.”

  “Ne-al’s big girl?”

  “Right. How did you know?”

  “Opal’s birthday party.”

  “Aren’t you a smart guy to remember?”

  Ian grinned.

  “If you’re done with your coffee,” Mary said, “why don’t you and Anne take Ian out to the car? I remember how much time it used to take me to get Autumn all strapped into her car seat when she was that age.”

  “Ian has a big-boy seat.” He bounced on the balls of his feet.

  “His grandmother Margaret got it for him. His old one was...” Anne twisted and untwisted her coffee-stained napkin. “He needed a new one.”

  Mary Hazard nodded, compassion framing her expression. “I’m going to call Ted and let him know we’re leaving. I’ll be right out.”

  Anne helped Ian into his jacket and Neal walked them out of the hall in what felt to him like a replay of their trek down the church aisle for the Bible story.

  “I need to stop in the preschool room and pick up my gloves. I left them there Friday.”

  “Sure, you’re the dri
ver.”

  When they reached the door to the classroom, Ian dug in his heels and tugged at Anne’s hand. “No ’kool. I stay with Nee Nee.”

  “We just have to go in for a minute. You can show Neal your cubby.”

  “No.” He stomped his foot. “No ’kool.”

  A memory clicked in Neal’s head. Ian had said something about school and Miss Jennifer in church. Neal hadn’t connected it with Pastor Joel’s wife, Jennifer, and the Community Church preschool and day care. He’d thought Ian was talking about his preschool in Sudbury.

  “Do you mind staying here in the hall with him?” Anne asked. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He was fine here all week.”

  Anne had brought Ian to day care, even though the college had been closed for the week? The concern on Anne’s face as she looked at Ian stopped Neal’s budding anger. It wasn’t as if he knew Anne’s every move, what she may have had to do this past week, why she might have needed day care.

  “No problem,” he said.

  “I’ll be right back,” she reassured Ian. “Neal will stay with you.”

  “Okay.” Ian wrapped his arm around Neal’s leg and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

  The grip on his leg relaxed.

  “Miss Jenfer.” Ian hid behind Neal and peeked around at the pastor’s wife.

  She waved and walked over. “Ian, I’m happy to see you at church this morning.”

  Ian came out from behind Neal and went to her. He gave her a shy smile.

  Whatever problem he’d had with day care didn’t appear to extend to Jennifer.

  “Neal.” Ian pointed.

  “Yes, I’m glad to see him, too.”

  “We take Neal home.”

  “Is that right?” Jennifer’s eyes sparkled.

  Neal shifted his weight to his other foot. She’d better not be thinking about teaming up with her husband on matchmaking because they’d both be sorely disappointed by the results.

  Her lips curved up.

  Sure she was. But it wasn’t going to work. He and Anne wanted different things. They didn’t have anything in common anymore. All they’d ever had in common was their high school science team.

  “Dad has some building-committee business. Anne’s giving Mom and me a ride home.”